


Almost Missed My Chance

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, F/M, Gunshot Wounds, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 11:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11600124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	Almost Missed My Chance

“Once we’re in the house we need to take separate wings,” Rossi said as you pulled up to the house. “Reid, you and Y/N go left. JJ, you and Morgan go right, and Emily, you’re with me.”

By the time you rolled up to Doctor Regan’s house, you weren’t sure whether Hotch was alive or dead. Peter Lewis, or Mr. Scratch as he dubbed himself, was without a doubt the smartest serial killer you’d ever come into contact with. 

While Kate was back at the Bureau, five months pregnant and in no condition to follow the rest of the team, you were just barely pregnant - so barely that you hadn’t even told Spencer yet. This was definitely not the time. Within another minute or so, they were at the entrance to Doctor Regan’s house. It was time to separate.

Separation was almost always a bad idea, but they needed to cover more ground and they needed to cover it fast if they had any hope of finding Hotch alive. Rossi motioned again as to who was supposed to go where. “Let’s go, babe,” you whispered softly, pushing against Spencer’s bulletproof vest. As you turned left, you could feel your stomach clenching, the taste of bile resting just at the back of your throat. Since you knew you were pregnant, it was difficult to tell whether or not the nausea was connected to the pregnancy or nerves. 

“You okay?” He mouthed. He could see you taking deep breaths. He was normally the one who needed to calm himself under pressure, not you.

Nodding, you rounded the corner, guns and flashlights held at eye level, though the lights were both shaking slightly, your collective nerves unable to keep your hands steady. Each step on the hardwood floors felt like an earthquake that would give away your location and bring down the wrath of Scratch upon your heads.

Crack!

As you spun around, you were greeted by your husband’s body coiled on the floor, spurts of deep crimson liquid spilling from the side of his head. In desperation, you spun around repeatedly, looking for any sign of Scratch to no avail. He wasn’t here. Where had he come from? “Where are you, you coward?” you screamed. “Spence is down!” You yelled into the comms, your voice tearing itself to bits as you seemingly screamed in vain. “I repeat, we have an agent down!”

A moan on the floor snapped your attention to it. Spencer was still alive, his hand reaching out thought he couldn’t lift up his head to meet your gaze. “Spence! It’s me. It’s Y/N. You’re gonna be okay, I promise.” You never made promises you couldn’t keep, and your husband knew it, giving you a weak thumbs up. With balanced pressure, you kept the blood flow at bay as best you could, but you knew it wasn’t going to be enough if he didn’t get to a hospital soon. “We need a medic!”

Another moan fell from his lips as his eyes fluttered open and shut. “Spence, stay with me baby! Stay with me!” The bile rose in your throat once again. He had to be okay. He was about to get what he never thought he would. They were going to have a baby. He was going to be a father. He had to be there for this baby. This baby had to have the privilege of Spencer being its father. 

Crack! Crack! Crack!

In quick succession, you heard bullets. Shadows crept across the hallway until Emily showed up. “Oh my god. He’s been hit,” she sputtered.

“Get a medic Emily, please!” You cried. You could feel Spencer fading away. She ran out the door and ushered the medics inside, leaving you to watch in horror and helplessness as they readied your husband for transfer. “What happened to Scratch? Is everyone okay?” A moment of clarity allowed you to ask how everyone was before your attention snapped back toward Spencer. 

“Hotch is out of it, but okay, and Scratch has been handcuffed.” In the instant your attention had been on Emily, the medics had taken Spencer outside. You popped up off the ground and ran after him, attempting to get into the ambulance with him.

“We need all the space we can get ma’am,” one of the medics said as the doors started to close. Hearing the frenetic beeping of the machine made your heart lurch into your throat. You turned around as the doors separated you from your husband and searched for a car. The Bureau car you’d taken in still had its keys inside, so without thinking you ran to it, climbed inside and sped off, following the ambulance closely that you feared a sudden stop. 

Pulling in just seconds after the ambulance, you barely got the car in park before running after your husband, now barely breathing. “Spence!” You yelled. The EMT’s head snapped back, surprised that you were somehow here. “Spence!” You pushed one of the medics back and implored your husband to wake up. “Spence! Stay alive! I need you to stay alive! We’re gonna have a baby, Spence! Please stay alive!”

The medic pushed you away with a supportive glance and went back to your husband’s side, wheeling him into the operating room and away from you - possibly forever.

—–

Nearly an hour went by before the rest of the team made their way into the hospital. Hotch was finally out of his drug-induced haze. “How is Reid?”

“He’s in surgery,” you replied, cradling your stomach as you sat in the waiting room in the fetal position. “I haven’t heard anything yet.”

You were starting to go numb, your mind racing with all of the possibilities. Most of them bad. Everyone sat by your side, saying nothing for the next two hours. Occasionally, one of them would attempt to say something, but you’d shun their advances and hope to disappear into oblivion. New tears continued to form every so often, traveling them same path as the dried ones on your face. “Agent Reid?”

At the mention of your husband, you popped up from the chair. “I’m his wife,” you breathed. Your hands rested on your chest, clutching at the fabric as you waited for news - good or bad. “Is he okay?” The question came out so softly you wondered whether it had actually been spoken at all. 

“He’s going to be okay,” the doctor said. Immediately, you fell to the floor in relief. “Your husband is a miracle ma’am. He shouldn’t have lived.”

Looking up from the floor, you thanked him for his time and energy in saving your husband. “Can I go see him?”

“He’ll be out of it for a little while, but you can go in,” he said. “One at a time.”

You turned back to your teammates and gave them a hesitant smile before walking down the hallway toward your husband’s room. Your mind was convinced that everything you’d just heard was a lie and that the second you rounded the corner to his room, he’d be lying their dead. “Spence,” you whispered. His eyes were closed, but he smiled softly. “Oh my god, Spence.” You collapsed onto his chest and cried. “Thank god you’re okay.”

“Are we having a baby?” he asked. “Or was I hallucinating?”

Your heart skipped a beat. He’d heard you. “You weren’t hallucinating…I’m pregnant.” His eyes still closed, he placed his hand on your head, rubbing the back of your scalp as you cried into his hospital gown. “I was going to tell you later and then…”

“It’s okay,” he breathed. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

You’d aged ten years in the last hour and for another few moments you cried into his chest, heaving with slightly uneasy but consistent breaths. When you lifted your head up to meet his gaze, he was staring at you under heavy-lidded eyes. “I’m gonna be okay,” he smiled, motioning to the gash in the side of his head. “And I’m going to be a daddy.”


End file.
